Feels Like Home
by Saberi
Summary: It's 2008- six years after Spike has left Sunnydale for good. Circumstances bring him back to LA to enlist Angel's help in protecting something (someone) precious, and to complicate matters, Buffy gets involved.
1. "It was meant to be."

Feels Like Home  
  
By Saberi  
  
**March, 2003  
  
1 New York City**  
  
"No, please!" Spike paused on his way to his apartment as he heard the pleading cry. With a frown, he noticed that the door to the apartment where the voice was coming from was ajar. He pushed it open and stepped forward tentatively, expecting the barrier. To his surprise, there was none. Which meant that either the occupant of the apartment was not fully human, or it was already too late to save her.  
  
The scene that greeted him would have turned his stomach if he'd been a mortal. A young woman lay on the floor, bleeding. Deep gashes ran across her stomach, soaking her clothes with blood. A Polgara demon stood over her, bone skewer extended as he prepared to attack once again.  
  
Almost without thinking, Spike's game face came forward as he launched himself at the demon, tackling it to the ground. His eyes scanned the room desperately for something to use as a weapon, and he smiled. Two crossed swords were mounted on the wall above the fireplace. He left the unconscious demon on the floor and plucked one of the swords from its mount. With a single clean stroke, he killed it.  
  
"Please…" the woman whispered, her voice hoarse. Spike knelt beside her and did his best to make her comfortable in her dying moments. The action brought back a flood of memories from a lifetime ago, back in Sunnydale. Then, he'd have done something like this purely for gaining Buffy's approval. Now, well, he didn't know why he was concerning himself with helping someone- but it felt somehow *right* to do this.  
  
"My daughter!" the woman gasped out, "Cassie…"  
  
"Hush, now," Spike ran a hand through the woman's hair, attempting to soothe her, "don't try to talk."  
  
"I'm dying," her eyes met his as she spoke plainly, "I need you to take care of Cassie. You're the only one who can protect her,"  
  
Spike frowned inwardly. This woman knew he was a vampire, yet still requested that he take her daughter? Without thinking, he nodded, accepting her request. She smiled at him and clutched his cold hand.  
  
"It was meant to be," she said, before closing her eyes for the last time.  
  
Spike stayed kneeling by her side, reluctant to move, before almost keeling over in surprise as the woman's body began to glow. The room was bathed in an ethereal light for only a few moments, and when it cleared, the body of a strangely beautiful demon had replaced the human woman.  
  
Demons, as a rule, were an ugly looking lot- even those who were considered 'good'. But this woman, whoever she had been, was unlike anything Spike had ever seen. Her skin was a soft blue, and her straight, shoulder-length hair shone like silver. Even the sharp spines he could see protruding from her forearms and the hands with the iridescent webbing between each clawed finger had a beauty of their own. He wondered why she hadn't reverted to her demon form when the Polgara had come for her. Surely her natural weapons would have given her a fair chance in a fight?  
  
"Cassie?" he stood up, his eyes scanning the room for the girl. If she was a half-breed, perhaps it was best if he took care of her. After all, being a demon himself he could understand her better than some mere human.  
  
A creak signaled the opening of a door, and a small, frightened face peered out from a darkened room. Spike smiled in what he hoped (not having much experience in the area) was a reassuring manner.  
  
"Hi," he said softly, remaining where he was.  
  
"My mommy's gone," the little girl stepped out from the room and moved closer to the vampire.  
  
"Yeah, pet," Spike replied, not knowing what else to say. The girl- Cassie- was standing next to him now, staring up at him with wide hazel eyes. He guessed her age to be around two or three years old. On impulse, he leaned down and picked her up. The girl wrapped her small arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder.  
  
The next thing he knew, he was standing in a white room, two toga-clad figures staring at him with unreadable expressions.  
  
The female of the pair moved closer to him, studying him intently. He refused to falter under her piercing gaze, and this evidently pleased her, for she smiled and looked back at her companion.  
  
"Leatha chose her child's Guardian well, brother," the woman in white said.  
  
"I agree. His desire to protect those he loves is unusually strong, for a vampire."  
  
"He is different, special. I can sense it."  
  
Spike was growing exceedingly annoyed as the two mysterious beings continued to discuss Cassie and himself as if they were not present. Even as he thought about voicing his displeasure, the male of the pair spoke.  
  
"My sister and I are Oracles, we work as Messengers for the Powers That Be. The little one is the last of her kind, vampire. She carries something that could spell disaster should it fall into the wrong hands. Her mother chose you as Guardian for this child. Do you understand and accept this responsibility?"  
  
Spike only nodded mutely, and the two Oracles smiled at him, evidently satisfied with this response.  
  
The next thing he knew, he was back in his own apartment, still holding on to the little girl. Now, his daughter. 


	2. "We're moving in..."

**Five Years Later…  
  
En Route to LA**  
  
"Are we there yet?" chorused two female voices.  
  
In the driver's seat, Spike groaned.  
  
"Like a couple of bleeding children, the two of you," he grumbled good- naturedly.  
  
The young blonde woman in the passenger seat smirked at him.  
  
"Uncle, dear, Cassie is a child."  
  
"So what's your excuse?" he retorted. His great-many-times-over-grand-niece stuck out her tongue at him.  
  
"Well, someone's got to be around to sweep up the ashes after your reunion with Angel," Amanda Richardson said brightly.  
  
The real reason she was with them was for her own protection. Shortly after Spike took on the task of raising Cassie, the demons began to hunt them down. The pair had moved all over North and South America before eventually moving to Europe. They never stayed more than a month in one place, always one small step ahead of their pursuers. It was when humans began to come after the little girl that Spike now considered his own daughter that they went to England, and one of the few places he'd ever felt truly safe: the Richardson family estate, the very same one he'd grown up in as a mortal.  
  
Amanda, the only living descendant of Christopher Richardson (who had been William's younger brother), had taken to the fact that her great-great- great-great-great uncle was a vampire surprisingly well. Spike had the sneaking suspicion that *someone* in his family line had been a Watcher.  
  
For six whole months, he and Cassie had lived with her. They'd just begun to feel truly safe when a gang of demons ambushed them. So now they were running again, Amanda with them- since whoever was chasing them now knew they were connected, the young woman was vulnerable. And Spike was *extremely* protective of family.  
  
Which is why it hadn't taken much convincing from his niece to get him to go ask Angel for his help in protecting them. The ponce might not have been his favourite person, but as bleeding-heart do-gooder that he was, Spike was sure he'd feel inclined to help them out. And if Angel didn't agree right away- well, Spike himself had fallen victim to Cassie's patented 'innocent child' look many, many times- Spike figured a vampire with a *soul* would have even less resistance to it's power.  
  
"This is it, I guess," Spike stopped the car in front of the Hyperion Hotel. "So," he looked at his two companions, "which one of us goes in first?"  
  
"You are. He's your Grandsire, after all," Amanda pointed out logically. "You head in, I'll bring our luggage."  
  
Spike stepped out of the car and entered the hotel, Cassie gripping his hand tightly.  
  
"Daddy, this place is *real* big," Spike grinned as the seven year old looked around the hotel lobby in awe.  
  
"That it is, pet. Looks like Angelus isn't here yet. Listen, I've got a great trick we can play on him…" the two shared a wicked grin. Despite the fact that Cassie wasn't his biological daughter, the two of them had the same sense of humour.  
  
So it was that when the Angel Investigations crew returned to the Hyperion after battling a demon, that they found Spike holding Cassie, game face in place.  
  
"Spike!" Angel cried in alarm, "let the girl go!"  
  
"Now Angelus, whyever would I do such a thing?" He blinked in mock- innocence. For her part, Cassie looked every bit the frightened victim.  
  
Until she giggled, that is. Spike reverted back to his human guise and stuck his tongue out at her.  
  
"You had to go and ruin it," he muttered petulantly.  
  
"Um," Cordelia spoke up, "is anyone else here confused? Isn't he supposed to be evil?" she jabbed a thumb in Spike's direction.  
  
"Hey! I'll have you know I'm very evil," the vampire protested. Laughter rang out from the young woman standing at the doorway to the hotel.  
  
"Right, Uncle. Enforcing a strict bed time for your daughter is really evil in my book," Amanda walked over to Angel and stage-whispered, "he likes to pretend he's still the Big Bad, sometimes. Don't mind him."  
  
"Daughter?" Angel echoed, somewhat shell-shocked. "What?" he said intelligently.  
  
"You didn't know?" Frowning, Amanda turned to Spike, "I thought you told him!"  
  
"Er, right, about that…" Spike avoided her gaze.  
  
"Told me what?" Angel was completely at a loss, the rest of his crew not faring much better.  
  
"Angelus? Uh, we're moving in…" 


	3. "I fucking *hate* karma."

**Later That Night  
  
Hyperion Hotel**  
  
"So the Initiative defangs you, and then what, you have a sudden change of heart?" Cordelia questioned sceptically. Cassie was asleep in one of the hotel's many extra rooms, and Amanda, Spike, and the Angel Investigations crew were gathered in the lobby as Spike tried to explain what they were doing in LA.  
  
"Well, not exactly. I worked for the Scoobies in return for cash at first," Spike shrugged. Angel scrutinised him silently. The formerly evil vampire had certainly changed in the nine years since they'd last met. Spike had stopped bleaching his hair, letting it return to its natural dark blonde. His wardrobe had changed as well- he was dressed in *blue jeans* and a light sweater. The duster was still there, though. Angel had a strong suspicion the thing was permanently attached to the younger vampire's body.  
  
Even more startling than the physical changes were the psychological ones. In the past, when Spike got involved in something, he threw his entire being into it. Of course, then his main concerns had centred around creating mayhem. Now, his focus lay in protecting his family.  
  
Angel had to admire him for that- after all, he was the same way with Connor and Cordelia. After he'd rescued Connor from the dimension Holtz had taken him to, he hadn't been able to let his son out of his sight for *weeks*. Cordelia had been miserable the whole time, blaming herself for not having a vision about what had happened. It had taken time, and patience on the part of Fred, Wes, and Gunn, but eventually the two had begun to move on, realising that danger would always be a part of Connor's life. With the help of their friends they could be strong and prevent another near-tragedy like the situation with Holtz from occurring.  
  
"Eventually, I stopped asking for money every time. My priorities changed, I guess. At the time, I didn't even notice it. And then Little Bit started hanging around me," Spike smiled fondly as he recalled the fiery teenager who had been one of his only true friends back in Sunnydale.  
  
"Little Bit?" Angel asked.  
  
"Dawn." The Angel Investigations shared an indecipherable look at Spike's clarification, and he continued, "I stuck around for a few more years, and then…" he trailed off.  
  
"And then what?" Gunn prodded.  
  
"I left." He said simply, "I left and went to New York, which is where I met Cassie's mother," he explained how he'd killed the Polgara and witnessed the woman's death, leaving out the fact that she hadn't been human. "Then the next thing I know, I'm in some strange place and some whackos calling themselves the Oreos-"  
  
"Oracles," Wesley corrected.  
  
"Oreos, Oracles, whatever- tell me it's my destiny to raise this little girl. Let me tell you, that little revelation scared the wits outta me. I mean, babysitting Dawn was one thing- you can play Poker with a fifteen year old, but what in the hell did I know about toddlers?" he shook his head in bemusement. "The two of us were fine at first. I was just getting used to the whole parenthood deal, and then," he pulled out a ring and tossed it on the table.  
  
Cordelia, Angel and Wesley all recognised the emblem that adorned it immediately. Gunn and Fred merely looked confused.  
  
"The Order of Turaka," Wes breathed. Angel repressed the urge to snicker at the irony of it all.  
  
"Yes, the Order. Let it be said now that I fucking *hate* karma," Spike said, pocketing the ring once again. Noticing Gunn's increasingly frustrated look, Wesley explained.  
  
"The Order of Turaka is a very ancient group of bounty hunters. No one is entirely sure how many of them there are, just that no matter how many of them you kill, another will always come. They don't stop until their target is acquired- or eliminated. Whatever the employer wishes."  
  
"So you've got a bunch of nasty 'Never give up, never surrender!' type demons on your tail, and you led them straight to us? Thanks," Gunn muttered.  
  
"Not just demons. Humans, too. Which is why I need your help. Angel is the only one I know who's strong enough to help me fight them off, and, and…" Spike hesitated, reluctant to continue.  
  
"And what?" Angel prodded, curious.  
  
"AndItrustyou," the younger vampire mumbled, avoiding his Grandsire's eyes. Angel resisted the urge to laugh at the thoroughly embarrassed expression on Spike's face- he knew how much he hated not being able to handle everything by himself.  
  
"Well," Wesley cleared his throat. "Our first order of business should be determining why someone has called out the Order of Turaka on your daughter- " he was interrupted by a yawn from Amanda. "But perhaps we should all get some rest first." The young woman shot the ex-Watcher a grateful look, and he smiled gently at her. The exchange went unnoticed by the others in the room.  
  
"Hey, tomorrow's Saturday, isn't it?" Gunn said to Fred as they were leaving. She nodded, glancing back at Spike. "So that means that…" she cut off her husband with a kiss, and Spike just shook his head, bemused and slightly curious as to what Gunn had meant to say. 


	4. "The last of her kind."

A/N: I'd just like to thank everyone who reviewed my story for their kind comments ^_^. They're much appreciated!

* * *

Vampires, being demons, have strength and senses beyond that of a normal human. While this can be extremely beneficial in a fight, there are other times when enhanced senses are not such a blessing. For instance, when a vampire is trying to sleep after driving for most of the night and then spending another few hours relating the last five years of his life to a bunch of people- most of whom he'd never met. 

So it was because of his extremely sensitive vampiric hearing abilities that Spike was roused from a not entirely restful sleep as the seven-year-old living ball of energy that called itself Connor Angel came thundering up the stairs and burst into the room across the hall.

"Hey, Dad! Mom! I had *so* much fun yesterday! I got to go out for dinner and we saw a movie…" 

Spike opened his own door and blinked sleepily as he observed the scene in front of him. Somewhere in his sleep-addled brain, he wondered just when Angel was going to tell him he was a father as well, and if someone had forgotten to give the memo to the both of them when they'd been turned that told them they weren't supposed to have kids. 

He must have said something out loud, because this kid stopped mid-sentence in his hyperactive account of what he'd been doing for the past 24 hours. He turned around, studied Spike for a minute, and then turned back to his father- who was watching him with a somewhat bemused expression on his face- and said,

"Hey! Who's that guy?"

"'Dad'?" Spike looked at Angel, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to get rid of the 'just got out of bed' look. "Any other little surprises you'd like to share?"

Just then, a second pair of footsteps could be heard running up the stairs. The person attached to said footsteps turned the corner, and Spike found himself staring at a very familiar face.

"Nibblet," he said, and gulped, because Dawn's expression had gone from one of utter shock to absolute livid anger. She stomped over to him, and slapped him hard across the face. Spike brought a palm to his stinging cheek and looked at her in confusion.

"What..?"

"You jerk!" Dawn spat, "it was bad enough when you *left*, but at least you still emailed me every week. Then all of a sudden I get a mysterious message about 'something big' happening to you. And then nothing- NOTHING! For five years! I thought you were *dead*!"

"So you're mad at me for not being dead?" Spike tried to piece together her logic. Dawn just rolled her eyes at him.

"No, you undead moron. I'm mad at you for making me *think* you were dead."

Spike was taken aback, not really sure what to say in response to that. Being male, he opted for the cocky, self-assured response.

"Why, luv, I didn't know you cared."

"Of course I care," Dawn was giving him that 'men are such morons' look. 

Connor, meanwhile, had just watched the whole exchange wide eyed. Seeing his sometime-babysitter go ballistic on some guy he'd never seen before- but who was apparently staying in his house (well, hotel), was a bit too weird, even for someone who'd seen the kind of things Connor did with parents in the 'paranormal investigations' business.

"'Morning," Cordelia emerged from the bedroom she shared with Angel, somehow managing to look as if she *hadn't* just woken up. "Oh, hey Dawn."

For the first time, Spike noticed the identical gold bands Angel and Cordelia wore on their left hands. –Must've been more tired than I thought last night- he thought wryly.

Amanda and Cassie both emerged from their own rooms at that point, and after introductions were made, Angel proceeded to explain who Connor was, and why Dawn was here as well. Apparently, she'd accepted a scholarship to UCLA and was working at Angel Investigations on the weekends as well as taking care of Connor on nights when his parents were out on a case.

"The big dork never lets me go out on a job," Dawn complained to Spike.

"Because," Angel said patiently, "Your sister would stake me if I put you in danger. You're too young."

"Cordelia was going out on cases when she was my age!" Dawn argued.

"Cordelia was part-demon by then," countered Angel. Dawn gave up with a sigh and several comments muttered under her breath, but even the most clueless of observers could tell the argument was an old one, only half-serious.

Shortly thereafter, the rest of the Angel Investigations crew arrived for work. Almost immediately, the books were brought out and research begun.

Spike's head snapped up in an unconscious reaction as a muffled shriek sounded from the hotel's courtyard. Logically, he knew that Cassie and Connor were outside just being kids, but the over-protective parent instinct that he somehow picked up after adopting Cassie still reacted. His gaze shifted to Angel, who grinned knowingly at him. 

Spike found himself musing on the strange parallels that existed in his and the elder vampire's lives. Both of them had spent a long time building up a reputation for cruelty and violence, only to be forced to drastically alter their way of life. Both of them had fallen in love with a petite young Slayer by the name of Buffy Summers, and now both of them were parents. Unlife was strange.

"Why'd you bring her?" Angel queried softly, looking out at the courtyard, where Amanda was supervising the two children.

"Who, Cassie? I told you Peaches, because we need your help," replied a confused Spike, shutting the book he was looking through.

"No," Angel shook his head, "I mean Amanda. Why involve her in all this?" 

"When we were in England, we needed a safe place to stay. And when we eventually had to leave- well, it just didn't feel *right* leaving her behind. What if whoever hired the Order of Turaka decided to kidnap her and use her as bait to lure us out? She's family, Angelus. I won't see her hurt any more than I would Cassie."

"That makes sense," Angel conceded. "It's hard sometimes, isn't it? Having to watch in the shadows as they stand in the sunlight."

Spike was going to deny it, but thought better of it.

"Yeah. It is. Sometimes I wonder what the hell I'm doing- a vampire with a daughter? But then I realise that if I hadn't taken her in, if she'd gone to live with some normal human family, they'd most likely be dead and she in the hands of whoever's hunting us now. And I couldn't bear that."

"Spike!" Wesley's voice, from his office, caught the vampire's attention. "I believe there is something here that you should see,"

"Yeah, what's that then?" He sauntered into the office, noticing that every available surface was covered in books and parchments. Without speaking, the ex-Watcher handed over a particularly heavy leather bound volume.

It was the illustration in the centre of the page that first caught his attention. Tracing the contours of it with his fingertips, he marvelled at how the artist managed to recreate the likeness of the demon, despite it only being a black and white sketch. The spines and claws were unmistakable. Cassie's mother had been the same type of demon.

__

Graidhenn demon. Possesses telepathic abilities, which are used in the passage of knowledge from one generation to the next. As one dies, the memories and experiences it possesses are passed on to the nearest of its kind.

Spike looked up from the text, and saw Wesley's attention was occupied by another book, this one obviously published more recently.

"Thousands of years ago, Graidhenn demons were your typical savage, murdering types. Over the past millennia or so, their nature became one of pacifism. The reason for it has been a mystery to the Council for generations," Wesley read aloud. 

A terrible realisation began to form in Spike's mind.

"The last of her kind," he whispered. Wesley looked up, startled.

"What?"  


"The last of her kind," Spike repeated, "is what that Oracle bird called her. Said she carried something important."

"Of course!" Wesley cried. It all made a horrible kind of sense. "As the last of her kind, Cassandra would carry the knowledge of all her forefathers."

"That can't be right. She's just like any other little girl," Spike said, his tone one of puzzlement.

"Not necessarily. From what is known of demon half-breeds, most don't begin to manifest their demonic abilities until adulthood. So whatever knowledge your daughter holds is most likely in her subconscious, and she is unaware of its presence."

Spike shuddered. Obviously, whoever was after his little girl was aware of what she carried with her.

"Bloody hell!" he cursed, "what if whoever called on the Order of Turaka found some way to take the memories from her? That's possible, innit?"

"I suppose. Some sort of memory spell could be used," Wesley mused. "I'll consult my books."

Spike nodded curtly and left the office, unsettled by what he'd just learned.

"Daddy?" Cassie's small hand slipped inside his own, and he stopped his restless pacing of the lobby to kneel down so that their eyes were level. "Are you okay?" 

"Just fine, pet," Spike said, forcibly erasing the worry he felt from his expression in order to portray a semblance of calmness for Cassie's sake. Whoever was after her, he- with the help Angel and his merry band- would stop them. They were the good guys, after all. It was what they did. 

"Hey," Connor walked up to Cassie. "Want me to show you around? Did you know there's so many rooms here that you could sleep in a different one every night for three whole months?"

Angel groaned as the two of them wandered off upstairs, and at Spike's curious look, he elaborated.

"Connor went through a 'phase' when he was five, and did just that. He insisted on sleeping in a different room every night,"

Spike couldn't help but snicker. He opened his mouth to say something, but whatever it was got cut off as an all-too-familiar pain suddenly gripped him and he collapsed onto the ground. 

Voices seemed to swarm around him as he lost his grip on consciousness and surrendered to the blackness.


	5. "Ssso, you are Glorificusss's Key..."

Angel watched in shock as his Grandchilde collapsed to the floor, clutching his head in pain.

"Spike?" he called out worriedly. Almost immediately, Amanda had grabbed a pillow from one of the lobby couches and put it underneath the vampire's head. "What's wrong with him?" Angel asked her. She didn't reply, searching through the pockets of Spike's duster for something. 

"Someone get some water," Amanda instructed as she finally located what she was looking for- a bottle of painkillers. Cordelia recognized them as one of the many different types she'd taken back when the visions still had the 'head-splitting migraine' clause.

"What's wrong with him?" Angel repeated impatiently. Amanda looked up at him, her bright blue eyes filled with worry.

"I think I should let him explain, when he wakes up," was all she would say. Fred walked over to her and handed her a tall glass of water. "Thanks," she acknowledged absently.

"I heard shouting," came a small voice from the top of the stairwell. Seeing the small crowd of people gathered around someone lying on the floor, Cassie's eyes widened in horror and she practically flew down the stairs and to her father's side.

"It happened again," Amanda informed her solemnly. She shook her head. "This is very bad. They're coming closer together now." Cordelia winced in sympathy. It had been years since the visions caused her any pain, but you never really forgot those kinds of truly excruciating experiences. 

Cassie gripped her father's slack hand and began murmuring, "Please wake up, come back, come on, please?"

Nothing any of the others could do or say would distract her from her vigil. Eventually they just gave up and let her be. 

Ten minutes passed before the sound of a moan came from Spike's lips, alerting everyone to his return to consciousness. He opened his eyes slowly, and blinked, staring up at the crowd of concerned faces.

"How long?" he asked Amanda.

"Ten minutes this time," was the reply. Spike winced. That was almost twice as long as the last one.

"Would one of you explain just what is going on?" Angel had watched the cryptic exchange in confusion, and was still no clearer on what had just happened.

"A while ago, I went to a doctor to try and get the chip removed," Spike laughed harshly as he downed the painkillers. "Only, the stupid bloke mucked it up, so now it goes off without warning sometimes." He stood, shakily, and continued, "I would've sued for malpractice, but," he shrugged, "the doc was a demon. Bit hard to sue one that supposedly don't exist." 

It amazed Angel how Spike just seemed to take every curveball fate threw at him in stride. He'd adjusted to being unable to properly feed much faster than he himself had, and didn't seem overly concerned about these obviously painful seizures. It made him wonder just how much of Spike's acceptance was a façade.

The rest of the day passed rather quickly, although no discoveries were made as to who was after Cassie. Once the sun set, Angel left to do a quick patrol of the streets, reluctantly allowing Spike to accompany him although the younger vampire insisted he was fine, really.

* * *

They returned to find Cordelia, Fred, Amanda and Wesley all sprawled in the lobby looking exhausted but smugly satisfied. From the preponderance of demon-parts strewn about, some sort of battle had taken place.

"What happened?" Angel queried, moving to Cordelia's side. 

"Spike's 'friends' decided to pay us a little visit," she informed him. "We fought them off, but who knew the stupid things would explode when you killed them?"

"Is this…" Angel gestured around the room, "all of them?" Cordelia shook her head.

"There were two humans with them."

"They didn't get Cassie, did they?" Spike was very clearly trying not to panic.

"Of course not!" Cordelia looked offended. "We knocked them out, broke a lot of bones, probably. Gunn's off dumping them in an alley somewhere," she looked up apologetically at Spike. "They were human, killing them just… didn't feel right. But if something decides to make a snack of them tonight I'm not going to shed any tears," she shrugged. "And as for the kids, they're upstairs. I don't even think we woke them," she rolled her eyes. "I know for a fact that Connor can sleep through an apocalypse. Or at least, an impending one."

"Cassie's the same way," Spike's expression softened slightly, his worry abated for now. He knew that whoever was behind the Order would try again, especially now that their location was known. Spike had hoped for a few more days before their presence in Los Angeles was discovered, but the hotel belonging to the vampire with a soul wasn't exactly a low profile locale. 

In an effort to thwart the plans of whoever was after Cassie, they arranged a system. The kids would spend the night at the Gunn's or Wesley's apartment, looked after by at least two people, while everyone else either patrolled or stayed on guard at the Hyperion. 

A week passed, during which no more attempts were made by the Order to capture Cassie. No-one was fooled into complacency though. They all realised that they were probably being watched, and whoever was behind the Order was just waiting for the right moment. 

* * *

The three of them marched purposefully into the hotel, a snakelike demon clutching a stack of ancient-looking parchments flanked on either side by two other demons.

"Ssspread out and sssearch this entire hotel from top to bottom," the serpent hissed. The two minions nodded and complied with his request.

A few minutes later, they came back, each dragging a kicking and fighting young woman.

"No Last," one grunted.

"Only these," added the other. 

Apophis smiled cruelly as he slithered towards the captives. Reaching out with a scaled hand, he touched Dawn's cheek.

"Ssso, you are Glorificusss's Key…" 

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Startled, Dawn played ignorant.

"Foolisssh girl. I am well aware of your true nature," he smiled, an idea taking place. "In fact, you ssshould be glad. The Key will ssserve much the sssame purpossse as the Lassst would have. There are many millennia worth of knowledge just floating about in that disgusssting human head of yoursss," 

Apophis turned to regard the other captive, the young human. She glared back defiantly, and the snake-demon found himself almost admiring her bravado.

In a bizarrely human gesture, he glanced down at the watch he wore on one of his scaly arms. Noticing the time, he hissed. 

"There's not enough time to perform the ritual here. We'll have to take them back to the warehouse," he informed the other demons.

"You're not taking anyone!" Amanda shouted, and spit in his face. 

"Really?" Apophis said mockingly. Then, to the minions, "take them to the car, and for hell's sssake, gag them both."

Wordlessly, the lesser demons obeyed. They may be simple-minded, Apophis reflected, but at least they got the job done. Unlike the Order of Turaka, which he'd called upon almost immediately after he'd learned of the Last's existence. The entire lot of them seemed to be all talk and little action. Five years and they'd accomplished less than he had in five minutes.

As he turned to leave, one of the parchments slipped from his hands and fluttered to the floor, unnoticed.


	6. "This is... awkward."

"I came as soon as you-" Angel was interrupted as a worried-looking Cordelia enveloped him in a hug. Gunn and Fred were also offering each other comfort. "What happened?" he asked his wife. Her phone call had been short and slightly hysterical, and Angel hadn't really understood any of it besides the fact that he needed to get back home as soon as possible.

"They're gone, Angel."

"Gone?" Angel questioned, his eyes widening in horror. "Wait, what do you mean, 'they'? I thought whoever is behind the Order was only after Cassie."

"Cassie's still safe," Cordelia managed.

"Then who?"

"Dawn and Amanda. They were supposed to stay here, and they're gone. Angel- there's signs of a struggle."

It was then that Spike and Wesley entered the hotel, each carrying a sleeping child. As they were informed about Dawn and Amanda's disappearance, Wesley noticed a slip of paper on the ground. Handing Connor to Angel, he picked it up.

Examining the writing on the paper, he saw it was covered in strange picture-like symbols.

"It's Egyptian hieroglyphs, I believe," he said. "The Watcher's Council has no records of Egyptian-written prophecies pertaining to matters that would concern the Slayer, so I'm afraid I only have a passing familiarity with the language."

He went over to the relative privacy of his office, in order to concentrate on translating. Spike sat down on the couch, Cassie still asleep in his arms. Angel had put Connor to bed and was now apparently involved in a staring contest with the phone, but Spike didn't feel quite comfortable having his daughter out of his sight quite yet.

"You going to call the Slayer or not?" he asked Angel.

The other vampire just sighed.

"Yeah, it's just- I really don't know how I'm going to tell her."

"Try and break it to her gently," Spike suggested. Angel took a deep, unneeded breath to steel himself and then dialed Buffy's number.

"Buffy? It's Angel. Look, there's something I have to tell you." A pause, "it's... about Dawn. She's been kidnapped." 

__

Oh, way to soften the blow, you great poof. Spike thought to himself. Still on the phone, Angel winced in response to something that Buffy said. A few seconds later, he hung up the phone with a sigh.

"She'll be here in two hours."

"I notice you didn't tell her I was here," Spike remarked. 

"I really didn't feel like getting in to that over the phone. Besides," a trace of a smirk graced Angel's face, "I figured you'd explain yourself ever so much better than I could."

The two hours seemed to pass by incredibly quickly. Wesley's research had so far been fruitless, even with the other's help. Shortly after the phone call to Buffy was made, Cassie had awakened and, seeing the concerned faces of all the adults around her, had asked what was wrong.

Spike _wanted_ to tell her that everything was all right, but it seemed unfair to be dishonest with her. He'd never lied to his daughter in the past, and it was painfully obvious looking around that everything wasn't "okay". She'd just looked at him, her eyes welling up with tears, and then hugged him tightly. She hadn't let go and had since fallen back asleep.

A soft knock at the door had Spike looking up sharply from the book he was reading. Shifting a still sleeping Cassie in his arms, he got up and opened the door. 

There was an uncomfortable silence for a few seconds as Buffy got over her initial shock at seeing Spike again.

"Um, hi," Buffy said softly.

"Hey," Spike managed, staring at her. As soon as the word was out of his mouth he mentally kicked himself. _The first thing you say to her after not seeing her for six years is "hey"? And you were a poet once?_

"This is... awkward," Buffy smiled slightly.

"Yeah," Spike agreed absently, as he looked her over intently, drinking in the sight of her. She'd grown her hair out again, it was currently held back from her face in a ponytail. Her figure was slim, but had lost that rail-thinness he had become so familiar with during their 'relationship'. Gone as well was the aura of depression that had surrounded her ever since she'd been resurrected. The light was back in her eyes. Somehow, during the time Spike had been gone from Sunnydale, Buffy had managed to get the fire back.

In his arms, Cassie sniffled and then lifted her head from where it was buried at his neck. Wide hazel eyes still bearing evidence of her earlier tears blinked sleepily at him, and then followed his own gaze to rest upon Buffy.

"Are you Buffy?" she asked softly. At Buffy's nod, she continued, "I'm sorry…"

"For what?" Buffy asked, confused. She found herself wondering just who this girl was and what she was apologising for.

"My daddy told me bad people took your sister away. It's my fault they did," she sniffled, then wiped at her nose angrily. 

"Hush, pet. You know that's not true." Tears made Spike uneasy. He was never sure just what to say to make it better. "Besides, Buffy's here now," he ruffled her hair affectionately. "We'll get Dawn and Amanda back, and she'll kick whoever dared take them halfway across the planet."

At this reassurance the girl smiled slightly.

"Cass, I think it's time for you to go upstairs to bed," Spike said, seeing that Buffy was giving him the 'I demand an explanation now' look. Reluctantly, the seven-year-old allowed herself to be taken upstairs and put to bed. When Spike came back down, he found Buffy waiting expectantly.

"So," she said, "I guess we've got a lot to talk about. For starters, who's Amanda? And since when did you have a daughter? Last I checked, Angel was the only vampire who could have a kid, and that was in a prophecy."

"Amanda is, well, my great-many-times-over niece. Can't bloody keep track of how many generations it's been, though, so she's just my niece. Helped take care of Cassie this past year." Spike was about to explain how Cassie came to be in his custody when a triumphant shout from Wes's office interrupted.

"I've got it!"

"Well," Spike smiled, and offered his arm to Buffy, "shall we see just what it is the ex-Watcher has discovered?"

Buffy accepted the proffered arm, and the two of them walked together into the office, ready to hear what Wesley had found out. 


End file.
